


The Elvenking's Halls

by Ninquetolliel (Witty_Whit)



Series: 10 Spouses [4]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: BAMF Legolas, Gen, Humor, Mirkwood, Mother Hen Dori, Ori Is A Sweetheart, Tauriel is so done, good dad Glóin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 11:51:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3409556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Witty_Whit/pseuds/Ninquetolliel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Bilbo is causing a commotion what with the disappearing act and all, Legolas does his best to find him and keep their "guests" entertained. Thranduil is overdramatic. Glóin is actually pretty cool (for a dwarf). Tauriel is so done right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Elvenking's Halls

**Author's Note:**

> Outtake from [Chapter 13: The Imprisoning](http://archiveofourown.org/works/883683/chapters/1769441).

Legolas felt a rush of excitement course through his veins as he listened to Tauriel’s annoyed explanation of how she hadn't seen the hobbit. “I am sorry, your majesty, but I never saw the Halfling leave the room.” A vanishing hobbit - what fun!

Thranduil’s eyes were sharp as he stated in a clipped tone, “Hobbits cannot disappear. It may have been many years since I have last seen one, but I assure you they cannot turn invisible.”

“Well, maybe this one can,” joked Legolas.

“Doubtful,” replied his father. “They are well known for been just as light on their huge feet as we are on ours. He is simply sneaking about and will be found soon. Tauriel, Legolas, find him.”

“At once, sire.” Tauriel turned on her heel and called out to a nearby group of guards. “Berioron, come with me. The rest of you spread the word and find this Halfling at once.”

When they were all out of the throne room, Legolas turned to the elf-king and said, “What are you planning?”

Thranduil sat down in his throne and said, “I plan on finding the hobbit.”

Legolas smirked; that either meant the king had several plans or none at all. “I’d better go find him them.”

As he was halfway down the long room, Thranduil called after him, “Be careful.”

Legolas turned in surprise, “I doubt a hobbit can do me much harm. Besides, this Mr. Baggins seems like a nice fellow.”

“Be careful with the dwarves; I don’t trust them.”

“I think it’s fairly obvious what they’re planning.”

His father inclined his head. “That is what worries me.” He shook his head. “Find the hobbit. I dislike the thought of him sneaking about.”

“At once.” Legolas spun smartly and left the room.

However, finding Bilbo Baggins turned out to be more easier said than done.

* * *

“Tell me more about your son, Master Dwarf. Did he grow up in Erebor?” Legolas said reclining outside Glóin’s cell, sharping his knives.

“Ach, laddie, as much as I do enjoy talking about my wee Gimli, you’ll not catch me fallin’ for any of yer tricks,” Glóin replied. He kept flipping through the illustrated book on famous weapons that someone-not-the-elf-prince had left in his cell.

“No tricks, Master Glóin, I promise. Aren’t you bored?”

Glóin shrugged and held up the book he was skimming through. “With the way you visit us - er - visit me, I get the impression that you’re the bored one. Is being daddy’s little princeling not keepin’ you occupied enough?” Glóin hoped the jibe would cover up his blunder, but Legolas’s serene face gave nothing away.

“Hardly,” said Legolas. “I have plenty to do. Between entertaining you rabble and searching for Mr. Baggins, I am afraid my spider-hunting skills are getting a bit rusty.”

“Those critters were right nasty,” agreed Glóin. “Still no luck in finding Master Baggins, eh? It’s been three days. That must hurt yer pride a bit laddie, but don’t feel too bad about how much of a failure you are.”

At that Legolas did frown and mutter, “That hobbit has proven himself to be incredibly slippery. Never fear, Master Glóin; soon he’ll be found, and I’ll have more time to spend with you.”

“Just what I always wanted,” the dwarf replied dryly.

“Maybe I’ll meet your son one day,” the elf-prince said.

“How do you figure?”

“Well, the Lonely Mountain’s not too far away. I’ll come visit if you manage to give the dragon his death and not his dinner.”

“Away with you, laddie!” said Glóin with a laugh, throwing his book through the bars. Legolas caught it neatly and sent it spinning back.

“You dropped your book,” Legolas said with a smirk as he rose to leave.

“Bring me another, princeling. I’ve read this one through twice now.”

Legolas smiled serenely and bowed, “At your service, Master Glóin.”

“Good lad,” taunted Glóin, but he meant it.

As Legolas walked down the corridor, he passed by Dori who had already started knitting the fine wool Legolas had left by his cot. Dori gave him a slightly stiff nod.

“What are you making?” asked Legolas, stopping and leaning against the cell door.

Dori said nothing for a few moments, “A scarf perhaps. I want to make sure Ori’s warm enough.”

Legolas nodded and did not bother reminding the dwarf again that he personally had seen that the younger dwarf had a pile of blankets and a little brazier in his cell. Besides these might be dungeons, but they weren’t goblin caves. It was warm and dry down here. “That’s a good idea.” Legolas considered the large skein and stated, “I know nothing about knitting, but it looks like you might have enough there for a whole sweater.”

“I don’t know if I’ll have enough time for a sweater.”

“Planning on going somewhere, are we?”

Dori shrugged with a smile. “I leave the planning for my king.”

“-And Mr. Baggins?”

“I wouldn’t know anything about that. I thought our hobbit friend was missing. Have you found him yet?”

Legolas only smiled. “Knit away, my dwarf friend. Perhaps you’ll be out even sooner than you think.” He turned and left.

“Good day, elf-prince.”

Next the elf-prince spent a few moments talking with Bofur, who cracked a few jokes but said nothing of importance.

Bifur ignored him as usual. His eyes only flickered to Legolas once when he complimented his row of miniature figurines he had whittled or carved.

Dwalin and Bombur were both asleep. Legolas was glad that the great dwarven warrior was not awake. He had the habit of hurling insults and rocks at any elf that ventured too close. Legolas had a nice bruise on his shoulder, despite all the promises he’d made about how no harm would come to the hobbit. Honestly, they were elves not orcs! One would think the dwarves would eventually get that through their thick skulls.

On his way to Ori, he shooed away one of the female guards who was hovering around the young dwarf's door. “I was only trying to get him to teach me his language,” she protested. “I thought we could read his journal and figure out what they were doing.”

“It’s a secret language. You’d have better luck learning to fly. Give him his journal back; after all, we can’t even read it.” The female sighed, but returned to her post.

“Thank you,” said the youngest dwarf, looking at him shyly.

“You’re welcome,” said the elf-prince, sitting on a stool outside the cell. “I was just with Dori. He’s knitting you a scarf.”

“Oh bother,” grumped Ori. “Can’t you get him to stop? He’s already made me two, and I’m sweltering in here. Doesn’t Nori need one?”

Legolas laughed. “Yesterday, I spotted your brother with a pair of red mittens and a scarf. They were suspiciously like the ones I had seen your brother knitting the day before that.”

Ori just smiled and opened his journal to a blank page.

Legolas took the hint. “Questions?” asked the elf-prince.

“All right,” agreed Ori. “You first.” It had become a pastime between them. Ori was desperately curious about elven culture, especially here in Mirkwood. Legolas was looking for any insight into dwarven culture that might help him sort this whole mess out. The only rules were no asking about their oh-so-mysterious quest and no asking about the best escape routes.

They spent the next half hour trading information back and forth. Eventually, Ori’s inkwell went dry, and Legolas promised to send someone to bring him more. “Want me to tell your brother you don’t want the scarf?”

“It’s all right. It comforts him, I think, taking care of us.”

“See you tomorrow, Ori.”

“Good-bye, your royal highness.”

Kíli insisted on asking all sorts of questions about Tauriel, who had recently refused to even walk by his cell. Nori just smiled at him eerily, but Fíli was polite enough. Though he was obviously sick of being stuck in once place for so long and anxious to stretch his legs. Óin and Balin always acted like doddering old fools whenever he tried to talk to them, so the elf-prince just said good morning and went on his way. 

Out of the dungeon, Berioron of the elf-guard, first lieutenant under Tauriel approached Legolas. “My lord prince,” said the elf as he matched Legolas’s stride.

“Do you have news of the hobbit?”

“Other than the cooks have noticed food missing from the kitchens, like you thought, nothing. Shall I place a guard there or have them lock everything up?”

Legolas considered the suggested before stated, “Do neither. I’d rather he not starve; if he thinks we'll catch in the kitchens, he may not eat.”

“We could catch him that way - if he’s hungry enough.”

“Doesn’t seem sporting. Besides the king said no one was to harm him, after all.”

“Very well, your royal highness.”

Legolas went on, “Do place more guards in the dungeons, not just at the entrance, but hidden in the shadows. I know he’s talking to our guests - passing messages and so forth. I think we’ll have more luck catching him that way. Of course the dwarves will probably find a way to warn him, but try anyways.” The elf-prince shook his head.

Berioron continued, “His majesty also believes the hobbit has been talking to Thorin somehow as well.”

“Yes, he mentioned that. He said Thorin has been acting smug whenever he interrogates him. Though that could just be because of all the furniture he’s managed to break.”

Berioron hesitated before saying carefully, “The king has seemed uneasy lately.”

Legolas laughed, “‘Uneasy?’ His majesty been in a damn foul mood. I don’t know if he’s more angry or guilty about this whole mess.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know,” confessed Legolas. “I was away when Erebor fell, and since then I’ve learned it wise not to ask about that day or any preceding it.”

Nodding, Berioron said, “Thank you, my lord prince. I’ll get back to organizing room by room search.”

“Wait until nightfall. Even invisible hobbits must sleep.”

“Very well.” The elf guard strode away, as Legolas walked to the library. He had to find another book that would interest Master Glóin after all.

* * *

It was a good week later, just when Legolas was starting to wonder if he was going to go mad if he never found the hobbit, when their entire Company escaped from under their noses. Legolas was more exasperated than furious, though he did feel the tiniest bit impressed.

Of course, it was still no fun relaying the news to the elf-king.

Thranduil was furious. “No one goes after them! Draw all elves to our borders. If they wish to die by dragon’s fire, so be it! I will waste no more time on him - on any of them.” Shaking in his rage, the king sat down on his throne. He muttered only loud enough for his son to hear, “A curse on them if they bring the dragon down upon us all.”

Hating the anguish in his father’s voice, Legolas placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. Softly, the elf-prince said, “I think they might be all right in the end. They did manage to outwit an entire kingdom of elves, ourselves included. They may manage to outsmart a dragon too. Besides, they do have a magic hobbit with them."

**Author's Note:**

> I gave Mr. Elf Captain of the Guard a name: Berioron, "protector."


End file.
